


(no plan survives) first contact

by viotaq



Category: Bleach
Genre: Characters will be added as they appear - Freeform, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 01:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18305231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viotaq/pseuds/viotaq
Summary: “C'mon, Byakuya,” she drawls, “You know it'd be fun.”“Fun.”“And also helpful. It'd buy you months if not years depending on how we play this.”In which Yoruichi hatches a plan and Byakuya, for some reason, thinks it is a good idea to go along with it.Set after the Thousand Year War.





	(no plan survives) first contact

The door slides open, he steps in and freezes. The grip she has around her teacup loosens.

“You,” they both say.

She gathers her wits more quickly than he does, sinks back fractionally into what, in polite circles, would be frowned on as a slouch. She pours him a cup of tea.

He sits, folds his cloths around him precisely, clearly without need for thought, holds a sleeve back and takes the proffered teacup, raises his glance in a question.

“Oh don't start - you know it's all your family's fault.”

An eyebrow raises haughtily.

“Yes, you Kuchiki went and had a marriage and it was adorable and the talk of soul society and it reminded every noble house of their own eligible children and so they all want to have their own marriages as well,” she makes a face, “mine included.”

His eyebrow stays raised.

“Yes, they're also trying to marry Yushiro off, don't give me that look, but the boy's too young to marry - have you seen him? Can you imagine him married?”

“And they thought having you marry me would be more appropriate?”

Yoruichi rolls her eyes, “Hell if I know what they think is appropriate - I wouldn't have come if they'd said it was you. They just said ‘upstanding young noble gentleman’ and then they threatened, but I figured I'd be able to handle them,” she waves a hand and does not continue.

He sips his tea.

“And your family? Don't tell me they're already scraping the barrel with me? You can't have already turned down the rest of the noble ladies eligible for marriage.”

He takes another sip, says nothing.

She snorts, “Oh my God, you have. You totally have. What was it, like fifty meetings?”

“Fifty-five,” he says, “you are fifty-six.”

She snickers, “You've been on dates for the past nine weeks?”

“Ten,” his fingers tense around his teacup, “I get Sundays off, and I believe this establishment's staff are about to go insane trying to rework their menus to come up with something new almost every day.”

“You're an asshole.”

“I have never asked them to make something new - they decided, on their own prerogative, to make each visit different and unique.”

“And here I just thought the family managed a reservation here last minute because it's well, the family, but I guess it's literally because you have all of your dinner dates here huh.”

He inclines his head.

Yoruichi grins, “Well, the food had better be good.”

* * *

 

“That was amazing.”

He dabs at his mouth with a napkin, nods.

“I can see why you put up with the company if the food is consistently this good.”

“It is possible,” he says, “that they went out of their way today to try to impress us.”

“Well, it worked,” she leans back, stretches languidly, “so what usually happens now?”

“We sit in awkward silence until the lady calls for her palanquin, I walk her to it, then I return home at about nine.”

She almost spits out her dessert wine, “You what?”

“I have no interest and they have nothing to say. We are two strangers who have had a meal together.”

“That's not very nice of you.”

“I am not going for ‘nice’ in my interactions with these ladies. Polite, perhaps, but not necessarily ‘nice’. It is often kinder this way.”

“You're such an ass - can't believe people actually still want to marry you.”

“Ah, but you are mistaken,” his lips curl, “their families want to marry the clan, not me. It is likely just a bonus that I am neither grossly ugly nor incredibly old.”

“Cheers to that,” Yoruichi raises a glass, “to meddling families.”

“To the first and only tolerable dinner,” he says balefully.

Yoruichi raises her eyebrows, but downs her entire glass.

“After this I will likely have to begin enduring dinners with the likes of Shiba Kuukaku and anyone else with a decently noble-sounding family. Should I survive the aftermath of my eventual dinner with Lieutenant Ise, it would not be surprising if the clan eventually gave up and simply decided to give me a stipend for the,” his lips purse, “houses of pleasure.”

Yoruichi snorts, “They are this desperate for an heir?”

“They love reminding me of all the times I almost died without leaving an heir. And now that Rukia has married,” he takes a drink, “their desperation has known no bounds.”

He puts his cup down, eyes her critically, “Hence you.”

“I what?”

“They're certainly not crazy enough to think I will marry you, so why invite you? Perhaps after having set me up with all of the remaining Shihouin ladies they have to complete the set or the family will be displeased?”

“You've been to dinner with all the eligible Shihouin ladies?”

He pours himself another cup. She pauses.

“Wait,” she says, a sly smile coming to her face, “did you meet Yuuki last week?”

“I think the more appropriate question would be if there is a Shihouin lady of marriageable age whom I have not yet met,” he sips.

She glares at him.

“Yes. I believe I met her last Wednesday.”

“...she was totally squealing about you then, even though you turned her down,” a grin begins on her face.

One of his eyebrows twitches.

“I guess some girls are into cool composed bastards who ignore them,” Yoruichi shrugs, smirks,“though she was singing such praises about your fingers you'd think-”

“I would much rather not think about what you are going to say next. And no, I did not spend the night with your third cousin.”

Yoruichi cackles, wiggles her eyebrows as she looks at his hands, “you don't have to spend the night to-”

“Must we discuss this?” he pulls his hands from the table.

Her smirk widens, “We don't have to, but I can, and it's so fun seeing you get worked up.”

He sighs, “Can I call for your palanquin, Lady Shihouin?”

“Don't have one.”

“I should have guessed, given your manner of dress.”

“Hey-”

“Do you not dress up for dinner?”

“Only for dates I care about. Most certainly not for you.”

“Lies,” he says, “you did not know it would be me. For all you know, there might actually be some poor unsuspecting noble child who has never met you and still wants to marry you, and who, somehow you find agreeable.”

She shoots him a look over her own cup.

“As unlikely as that would be, I suppose.”

She sighs, “Do you know who they might try next?”

His lips curl, “Omaeda?”

She drops her empty cup. It lands with a thump and rolls on the tatami mat.

“Lieutenant Omaeda is,” he looks fairly amused but also pained, forces the words from his throat, “not a bad man.”

Yoruichi just shakes her head, “they wouldn't.”

Byakuya raises an eyebrow, “Fifty six eligible ladies. Imagine how many eligible young men there will be now that they all know that you are looking for a partner and that they no longer have to marry into the Shihouin since Yushiro is Head.”

“I'm not-”

“We were both seen entering this establishment. Do you think there will be a single family who does not know?”

A glint comes to her eye. He has seen this glint before. He knows it means plots. He knows enough to know that he does not want to be involved in one.

Yoruichi opens her mouth.

“No,” he says.

“No? I'm hurt, you haven't even listened to my proposal.”

He twitches at the word proposal. She laughs.

“But seriously,” she leans forward, “think about it. If we have a second dinner, it would stop, at least for a while?”

He stills, waits for the next blow.

“And they would pay for it?”

He relaxes, a twitch of his lips, “Yes, the families would pay for dinner.”

“I would certainly prefer dinner with you over dinner with Omaeda.”

“And Shiba Kuukaku will no doubt attempt to flay my skin from my bones if she were to even show up.”

“It makes sense. You know it. There is no harm. We are both adults, not like you really act like it, but I guess you are. We can manage ourselves.”

He sniffs.

“C'mon, Byakuya,” she drawls, “You know it'd be fun.”

“Fun.”

“And also helpful. It'd buy you months if not years depending on how we play this.”

“Hn.”

“You're not scared of me, are you?”

“Of you?” His tone is at once lightly horrified and insulted. Oh yes, he has definitely been to too many of those meetings where they say very little but mean a lot, she notes.

“Well? If you're not scared, this is good for me, it's good for you, what's taking you so long?”

He sighs, but that is as much a look of agreement as she is ever going to get.

Yoruichi leans back again, a grin on her face, “You really haven't changed all that much, have you?”

“Out.”

She grins, stands, waits for him to realize that he now has to walk her home like the gentleman date that he has just agreed to be. She sees it click in the way he huffs out a soft laugh and holds out his hand.

“Why, Lord Kuchiki,” she flutters, “I thought you'd never ask to walk me home.”

He rolls his eyes.

Yoruichi smirks and loops her arm around his.

* * *

 

“Dinner,” the lord says, “was acceptable.”

Seike has to fight the urge to adjust his glasses in order to hear better because that does not sound like the frustrated whoosh of air that Lord Byakuya's robes usually make.

“Understood, my lord. We will make the appropriate arrangements.”

“You misunderstand,” Byakuya pauses in his steps, “I will inform you if your assistance is required.”

“Yes, my lord.”

* * *

 

“So?” Yuuki beams, “what did you think of his hands?”

Yoruichi cackles.


End file.
